Home Again

What a long, strange journey these last ten days have been. Of measurable distances in miles and immeasurable distances of the heart and spirit. My brother is no longer of this world but he left behind a legacy of love and sweetness and humor that touched so very many lives. He was much loved and leaves a hollow space that will not soon be filled. When someone you love is ripped away in a tragic, brutal, random accident, you are obliged to consider the meaning of your own life. How important it is to feel the sunshine, look up at the stars, dance, laugh, savor everything that is good and to be present in every moment of life. What is particularly sad about Cullen's death is that the accident took another life as well. A young woman named Lara who was only nineteen. I feel for my brother's widow, Pamela, who now goes home to an empty house. A house that holds nearly sixteen years of memories of the life that they shared. Which makes me doubly grateful for the home I returned to last night. For my two sons who joyfully crushed me in a group hug. And for Newton and Einstein who suspiciously sniffed my luggage and shoes before begging for attention. It is good to be home.